I have a confession. I don’t watch RuPaul’s Drag Race (I don’t love reality TV), but my history with drag queens is long. My first experience with the art form was in a small club in Provincetown when I was just 14. My mom and I were sharing a cottage with her friend and her teenage son that summer in the town of Orleans on Cape Cod.
One day, we made our way north to the notoriously queer mecca for shopping (and I suppose to gawk at gays in the wild a bit). Little did I comprehend at the time that our day trip to the tip of the cape
